Halloween: The Shape Stalks
by Joopite
Summary: A short story based on Michael Myers and John Carpenter’s Halloween- an atmospheric and descriptive short story following an encounter with Michael Myers.


From the corner of her eye, she noticed a shape.

She had caught sight of the shape in a mirror to her left, a rectangular one with a large crack in it, stained with human blood. It showed the cramped doorway directly behind her, the light from the corridor outside of the room being obstructed by the man. She slowly rose from crouching next to the limp corpse, hesitating to make a sound. There was no reason for her silence- the man in the mirror had to have seen her, that's why he was standing there, after all. In her frozen terror, she couldn't move, couldn't speak- all she could do was stare at the humanoid shape staring back at her through the mirror. The only light in the room was that of a dimly glowing jack-o-lantern in the corner of the room, and in the darkness, she couldn't make out anything about him. Not a single feature on his face was visible. All she could see was the stained kitchen knife he held steady in his right hand- completely unmoving, but it still gave her the feeling that it was somehow being aimed at her.

The next thing she noticed was the sound. A heavy, muffled breathing came from the man; it pierced the quiet air like the very knife he held at his side. His breathing was regular and tough, and didn't slow down one bit. He tilted his head at her, and then began advancing towards her. It was then that she got her bearings together and decided to act.

He flipped the knife around and raised his arm, preparing to strike. She quickly dodged to the right and towards the open window, hastily climbing into the window sill. She heard the sound of the knife gliding through the air, and it struck her arm, causing her to fall out of the window sill prematurely. She landed in a bush and rapidly climbed out, glancing at the window above her. In the moonlight, she made out half of his face- snow white and expressionless. He quickly turned away from the window, and she knew exactly why.

'The stairs...' she thought, gripping her wounded arm and breaking into a sprint. The cold autumn night battered against her bare arms, causing her to shiver; she shook it off, however, focusing instead on escaping the man pursuing her.

The house she had just escaped from was isolated from the rest in her small town- between that house and the rest was a small wooded area, a natural barrier between her and help. She knew there wasn't much of a choice to be made; she diverted from her original route and quickly ran into the woods. From behind her she heard a branch break- that was the only cue she needed to know what she suspected. But still she turned; walking with purpose towards her was the Shape, weapon by his side and the stomp of his heavy footsteps ringing loud in her ears. She hastened her run, dodging in between thin trees and leaping over logs, but no matter how much she ran, the walking man behind her wasn't far off. Tears of pain, fear and regret filled her eyes as she continued her run; she didn't want to die like this, not to him. Ahead of her she saw the tree line, and beyond that, houses. As well as the noise of snapping branches and heavy footsteps was the sound of children laughing. This newfound hope made her run even faster somehow, making her almost trip over a fallen branch in the process. From behind her, she could almost feel the Shape reaching out to her, just as she leapt out of the tree line and narrowly avoiding his grasp. The girl ran into the street, burning her lungs with her screams.

"Somebody! Please! I need help, there's a man, he has a..." she yelled. To her distress, all of the adults around her raised their eyebrows, or shook their heads as if they were watching a prank. The children, however, looked at her with curiosity. She then widened her eyes and realised her grave mistake. 'The children' she thought, looking around her. "Everyone, get the hell out of here! You aren't safe, there's a man, he..." people continued to ignore her- in the middle of the road, surrounded by families trick or treating, she felt isolated and alone. "This isn't a prank, I don't... please!" She screamed. She looked back to the tree line, where she had last felt the Shape's presence- he was gone. She looked around her, down the street- nothing. He had vanished, leaving her alone and screaming murder to the air. She sobbed, looking everywhere for him. The families around her began moving on from observing her, causing more of the road around her to become visible- and there, not ten feet away from her was the man, staring at her. From so close, she could make him out entirely now- his face was instead a white mask, with brown, combed hair. His pitch black eyes resembled gaping holes. He wore a set of blue coveralls with the collar up, his masked fitted underneath it. She screamed, pointing at him, but it was too late- the families had moved on and she was alone again. She took off again, putting everything she had left in her to keeping her legs moving. She dared not take a look behind her, but she knew he wasn't far behind. And despite the newfound sounds around her of suburban life, she could still hear the awful sound of that heavy, muffled breathing.

She approached her family's house, and prayed to God that it wasn't locked. She barged into the door and turned the handle, and was beyond relieved to feel it swing open. She slammed it behind her and out on the lock, closely followed by the chain. Her parents got up from the sofa, a puzzled yet concerned look on their faces.

"Honey?" Her mother asked. "Is... everything okay?"

"The whole house almost shook with that slam, what's going on, Katie?" Her father commented. He frowned. "Is that... is that actual blood?"

"Mom, Dad, please, we've got to go, right... right now..." Katie pleaded, tears streaming down her face as she pulled her parents towards the backdoor. "I was at Hannah's, I walked away for a couple of minutes- she's dead, and the guy, he..."

"Honey, you're kinda scaring us... if this is another prank, you've really..." her mother questioned nervously.

"It isn't a prank!" She screamed. She heard the door handle move- he was attempting to get in. "There's a man, he has a knife! he's trying to kill me... he's out there!"

"A man?" Her father asked. "Trying to KILL you?"

"Yes! Please, don't do anything stupid, just leave, we need to get out of here NOW." She begged.

Suddenly, the door was slammed against- and again, and again, and again. She could hear the wood splintering inside of it as the man put more and more force into getting the door open. "The bastard..." Her father said. "Sophia, get her out of here, please..."

"We're all getting out, for fuck's sake!" Her mother screamed at him. "Don't try and do some stupid heroics!"

"Dad, please!" Katie yelled, turning the handle of the back door; her eyes widened in surprise. "It's locked!"

"The key, it's..." her mother froze. "It's hung up, next to the front door."

The Shape barged against the door again, and it swung open, only being stopped by the now-weakened chain. Through the gap in the door, she could make out his mask, staring at them through it. His hand reached in, and undid the chain. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the house. He observed the three of them for a few seconds, his heavy breathing being masked by the yells of shock by her parents. In an act of defence of his family, her father threw himself at the Shape, who swung his knife at him in response. Before she could see the result, her mother pushed her into the door leading to the basement, and slammed it behind her. Katie took this hint, and ran down the steps and into the basement itself, taking refuge under the stairs. She huddled herself into a corner and forced herself not to make any noise.

The hardest part of this was the noises coming from above her. She didn't hear any screams, any loud cuts from a blade- only silence. This was closely followed by a loud thud. Then another. Then all sound ceased. Nothing. Then, footsteps.

They got closer. She recognised the heavy footsteps, she knew their owner. She huddled herself into the corner even further, praying that the worst hadn't happened. Then, the basement door opened, letting the light of the living room leak into the drab underbelly of the house. The heavy footsteps continued, this time landing on the creaky steps- one after another they landed, each one louder than the last. Then he got far down enough that she saw the knife; stained, with a thick liquid dripping off and onto the steps.

The Shape finally reached the bottom and into the basement. His head slowly rotated around as he observed the room, the only noise being that awful, muffled breathing. He slowly turned his head to the gap between the steps, revealing her face to him completely. She widened them, and quickly shut them, cowering away into the dark.

He titled his head.


End file.
